


A piece of merchandise

by MyrJuhl



Category: Snow White and the Huntsman (2012), The Hollow Crown (2012)
Genre: A shocker - Hal's not a virgin, Angst, Crossover, Drama, Lord Çalişkan looks exactly like The Sheriff of Nottingham, M/M, Period Piece, Religious references however - that could shake them up!, Sarded is old-English for fucked and now you know it too, They both even sound like Alan Rickman. Mindblowing, although they weren't so impressed by using bodily functions as cuss words back then, light kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-24 22:04:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1618613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyrJuhl/pseuds/MyrJuhl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When King Henry IV of England loses a battle against the rebellious enclave of Cimbreau, his eldest son and heir Prince Hal is imprisoned by their ruler, Lord Çalişkan of Cimbreau as spoils of war. However, the lord has no intentions of returning the prince – even after a generous ransom has been paid.</p><p>A furrier and his son, a huntsman, have business in Cimbreau’s court. Their merchandise attracts Lord Çalişkan who is keen on obtaining this for his wife and daughters’ amusement. The merchants are invited to stay at the castle while they conduct their business.</p><p>Though the huntsman takes an interest in young Hal, at the same time, he resents his feelings towards a common serf who is far more handsome and aloof than his own good.</p><div class="center">
  <p>•●♥ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ♥●•</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The story takes place in what today is United Kingdom. Back in the day, in the 1400's there could be more than one kingdom on the same island... Oh, yeah. That's absolutely true.  
> So why not make war against each other to gain more acres ;)
> 
> There has been no beta on this work and I apologise profusely for any mistakes.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** These events never happened. This fic is for entertainment purposes only, not profit. I, the author, make no claim through this work as to the fictional characters/ actual lives/ preferences/ activities of the people mentioned herein.

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The battle was over and King Henry IV walked amongst the fallen men ascertaining his losses.

“Where did you say you saw him fighting his opponent?” the king quietly asked his second in command. They were particularly searching for prince Hal who had fearlessly participated in the skirmishes against one of the biggest threats to the throne, the rebellious Cimbreaus.

“Over there behind the tall shrubs, my liege,” the man responded. However, once the two men got there, the prince was nowhere in sight. All they found were other corpses of no importance.

"Where is he?" the king uttered, his voice laced with the beginnings of despair. "He was showing such promise lately. His reckless youthful behaviour was considerably diminishing. He was so ready..." the king stopped his private musings as he recalled that he wasn't alone. "What do I tell the council?" he asked rhetorically.

"A messenger, my liege!" the commander suddenly interrupted. The king turned and saw a horseman near them.

"A letter, my liege," the man said, and waited respectfully for the king to read his message should he demand a reply to be carried out.

"My god," the king moaned, as he read the contents of the paper.

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Hal groaned in discomfort as he slowly regained consciousness. He was disorientated at first, until he realised that he was moving. Opening his eyes, he found himself on a wagon with his arms bound behind his back.

Carefully surveying his surroundings, he understood that he was accompanied by Cimbreau soldiers, and it didn't take him more than a moment to derive the conclusion why he was on that wagon.

He was taken hostage by his enemy. This would cost his father - and England - a lot of sovereigns. Hal shook his head in disgust; he could do nothing but await his fate.

Later that following noon, the Cimbreau army returned to their homeland and the castle of their leadership.

Hal was pulled from the wagon and brought forth to Lord Çalişkan's quarters, where he entertained his closest friends and politicians.

"So... what to do about you now?" the lord mocked the prince, as soon as he was released by the soldier who had lead him to the room.

"You will not get away with this..." Hal immediately said.

"Oh, I think I will," the lord smirked.

"People will know I'm here."

"I'll contact your father all right, and we'll see how much he's willing to pay for your release."

Hal frowned. "Of course he'll pay the ransom!"

Lord Çalişkan smirked. “That’s what I said, wasn’t it, Harry?”

Hal didn’t retort right away. There was something about Çalişkan that confused him. “And you’ll just... rearm for another war against my father? Against England?”

“Quite. Why else go through the trouble confining you here?” Lord Çalişkan replied. “In the meanwhile... why not learn some humility, Harry?”

“Humility? From your example?” Hal answered incredulous.

“Guard...” Çalişkan said and stood up and neared the young prince. Reaching out, he ran his fingers through Hal’s dirt and blood soaked curls. “Take this opulent whelp and show him his... quarters. I’m sure he would appreciate a bath and a meal.”

Hal gritted his teeth. The sarcasm was thick and he did not look forward to where this matter was heading.

His so called quarters turned out to be a bunk that he would have to share with another lad. His bath was not going to happen and he had to wash the blood, sweat, and grime off his body in the presence of the rest of the servants whose duties were connected to the kitchen. Hal’s meal was so simple and unfulfilling that he was barely able to chew it. But he did. He wouldn’t know when he would be fed the next time. His armour had been taken from him even before he regained consciousness on his journey to Cimbreau. What was left of his old clothing was taken from him, too, and replaced by simple homespun garments.

He was introduced to the staff as ‘Harry’. Simply that and nobody recognised him. Not a soul inside these walls had any idea that they were looking at the future king of England. Hal suffered for a moment of vertigo when he realised that even if he told them – they wouldn’t believe it. Wouldn’t care because he was technically their enemy.

So Hal swallowed his pride, kept his mouth shut, and waited; his entire being tuned in on survival mode until he knew his options. Until he could return to England.

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“Harry?” the kitchen maid whispered. “You’d better come. The cook has been calling for you.”

Hal had been cleaning vegetables for an eternity for two whole days. He had already been punished once for objecting to this repetitive task, and he did not need another lecture from the offensive wench.

“What can I do for you?” he asked her once he was present.

“Always so damned polite. You should be quicker on your feet or I’ll make you his Lordship's gong farmer, boy!”

Hal blanched and shook his head. “No need for that...” Imagine emptying Çalişkan’s piss pot? That would simply not... Hal cringed inwardly with disgust.

“I thought you might not like that. Do I make myself clear then?” the cook asked.

Hal just nodded. How he hated this disposition.

“Take this to his Lordship and don't drop any of it, all right?” she said and handed him a dish stacked with food.

Hal’s stomach growled when the fumes of the meal drifted across his nostrils.

“Off you go. And come back when you’re done ‘arry.”

“Yes, madam,” Hal replied smoothly and went after a soldier who had been specifically standing and waiting for Hal.

Hal tried to remember the many corridors they went past. Castles were built as fortresses as well as housing people. This structure wasn't any different. But still he would have to walk these corridors some more to figure out how he could use it to his advantage should he find the opportunity to escape.

When they’d walked for some time, Hal stole a slice of meat and stuffed his face. He didn’t care if he was punished for it. He hadn’t eaten for twenty-four hours and he was not going to starve, if he could help it. The people he was going to serve this food would stuff their bellies beyond their capacity anyway and wouldn’t miss that tiny bit of meat. But it would make Hal’s evening much more comfortable.

“There you are, Harry!” Lord Çalişkan greeted him as soon as Hal entered the hall. The man had several guests present besides his family and closest confidants.

“You can serve my guests first.” Çalişkan laughed when Hal’s eyes sent daggers his way.

“I would never allow my servants to be openly rude in my presence,” a guest commented.

“Harry is special. He’ll be meeker with time. I’ll see to that,” Çalişkan laughed again and raised his glass towards Hal.

“Meeker?” Hal said and had to rail in his temper not to drop the entire dish in the lap of one of the guests. He kept it inside though, and continued to carry out the duty until the dish was a sorry sight. Then he looked up at Çalişkan and the man nodded at him to come forward.

Hal came and stood by him and awaited orders. “Isn’t he a beautiful boy?” Çalişkan asked his guests randomly.

Several replies confirmed the lord’s statement and Hal’s narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked between gritted teeth that ended in a gasp as Çalişkan let his hand wander up his leg and under his tunic. “What _are_ you doing?” Hal asked a second time, as Çalişkan’s hand settled against one of his buttocks.

“I’m in my perfect right, Harry. You are truly a challenge I’d love to sample.”

“And I'm carrying a wooden dish that’s getting heavier by the second,” Hal hissed and tilted it threateningly.

The lord caught his intent and let the prince go. “Leave us, Harry.”

Hal did so immediately and left the room; his hands shaking with adrenaline in a matter that he wasn’t even sure he could have held the dish a moment longer.

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At night, he lay in bed and endured the other boy wrapping himself around him for warmth. The boy's name was Jim. Hal stared into the darkness and pulled the sheet back when Jim hogged it in his sleep. He wondered what his best friend Ned Poins was doing. They used to be bad boys and roam the night to indulge themselves with mischief. How redundant that seemed now. Hal worried how efficiently the ransom would be gathered. How much money had Çalişkan asked for, and would his father think Hal was worth it?

Gasping for a few seconds, Hal’s breath hitched in terror. His father loved him, but was he worth a ransom? He was the crown prince for God's sake. Hal wiped tears away. He couldn’t afford these thoughts, but he was just very, very frightened for the first time in his life and so alone. Hal wasn’t sure he’d get any sleep at all that night but to his surprise, he was woken the next morning by Jim, so he must have slept a bit after all.

 

That day, Hal carried out his chores without any incidents. He was even fed twice. So smartly, Hal gathered there was a connection between doing what he was told and being fed. It was really quite simple and made his own life easier. 

In the evening, he was sent to serve the hall again and Çalişkan deliberately felt him up once more to the amusement of his guests.

“When I become king, my _lord_ ,” Hal said as low as possible, “you will regret these little tiresome games because I will avenge each and every one of them.”

“ _When_ you become king, my dear Harry. Why, wouldn’t that be a sight? A serf as the king of England?” Çalişkan laughed. “You need to have just a dash of royal blood to become king, dear, dear Harry.” 

“Isn’t King Henry missing out on a son, husband?” the lord’s wife asked.

“He sure is,” Çalişkan replied and squeezed one of Hal’s buttocks. “Gives Harry here the illusion that he can step into the misplaced prince’s shoes, doesn’t it?”

Hal looked at the man with disbelief written all over his face. “You’re not actually playing that game, are you? Before you imply that _I’m_ a bastard, perhaps you should heed some thoughts concerning your own infidelity?" Hal threw back at him, insinuating the lord’s very own hands on action this very moment questioning if his own children in fact were born by his wife.

“For God’s sake, Çalişkan. Whip this insufferable dog! I can’t believe you’ll let him address you this frank,” a guest interfered.

“I find it quite stimulating,” Çalişkan replied as his hand went to Hal’s front and grabbed his balls. “Go to my room and if I don't find you in my bed... I _will_ have you whipped until poor daddy won’t be able to recognise you. Understood?” Çalişkan’s voice lowered to a dangerous growl, as he added more pressure.

Hal closed his eyes, as he tried to breathe. “Understood,” he finally grunted.

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The hours seemed to stretch slowly that evening, while Hal awaited the lord’s presence in his private chamber. The foul man took his time, and Hal resented his psychological games. Sharing his sheets with a male was nothing new to Hal by far - he had had fun experimenting with Ned many times in his youth and enjoyed the ferocity a change in gender brought along. But that had been consensual sex - not forced upon him. Hal usually enjoyed taking women to his bed and, as he sat there, he realised to his astonishment that he might have done a few maidens wrong. Just the fact that he was the crown prince could have been the reason why some of them accepted him to their bed... not necessarily because they wanted to.

Hal took a deep breath. When he returned to court there would be some changes on his part. He would stop socialising with people who only sought his company because he was the prince. He'd taken advantage of that too much - as those people had of him, but from now on he would initiate acting like he was actually worthy of the crown when the time came.

The epiphany provided great comfort as he decided to simply relax and fall asleep. He had no power over his destiny this evening, so why not take advantage of that when he’d been commanded to stay in the room nevertheless? 

However, Hal couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t really believe that this was Çalişkan’s real intention. It seemed... too risky and undignified. Hal tried to compare the man to his own father’s noble conducts. But in truth, there was nothing to compare. Çalişkan was just a callous and brutish individual. Deep down inside, Hal knew that the lord didn’t care for even a second that he was keeping the crown prince of England hostage.

As it were, Çalişkan never showed up to claim the prince, and Hal was a wreck the following day from lack of sleep. The cook evaluated him past midday and sent him to his bunk for a few hours to catch some sleep. She was not interested in Hal dropping the dish in the hall due to fatigue. Yes, the rumour of Hal’s whereabouts last night travelled fast. Hal had no doubt that everyone thought the lord actually had spent the night sarding the 'whelp'. Well thank god for the fact that the man had sought his urges elsewhere.

A week passed quickly, and one Saturday afternoon found Hal busying himself polishing whatever people put next to him on the kitchen table. It was hard on the fingers but as always, repetitive tasks allowed the prince to think about his situation. Although Lord Çalişkan still entertained his guests and family each evening insisting that Hal stayed in his bedchamber, the lord still hadn’t made good of his threats yet. Hal had come to the point where he simply didn’t care any more. Unintentional, Lord Çalişkan was giving the prince better accommodations by separating him from the rest of the household at night. At least, Hal was grateful to be rid of Jim’s snoring having gained the most comfortable bed in the entire castle. The lord probably bedded one of the maids instead. Well... better them than him, Hal thought in spite of his earlier musings of bettering his own behaviour. However, he wasn’t home yet...

After another two weeks, there was still no news about a ransom, and Hal was beginning to lose his spirit. His days were endlessly repetitious as the previous ones had been. The people around him were beginning to get on his nerves with their superstitious stupidity. He'd realised early on that he had to make himself appear as stupid as they did. Smart people made them nervous and suspicious and Hal didn’t really want the wrong kind of attention. That would only lead to more work or refined little punishments. Already, he was nagged about spending his nights in the lord’s bed causing both envy as well as ridicule.

One evening, Hal served in the dining hall as usual and he reached Lord Çalişkan’s seat.

“Just the bird,” the lord said and slipped his hand up under Hal’s tunic. By now, the prince was fairly used to it. “Brace yourself, Harry,” the lord said under his breath. “I will be sleeping in my own bed tonight.”

The little hairs raised on the back of Hal’s neck. “How should I interpret _that_ , my lord?” Hal responded just as quietly.

“As you wish,” Lord Çalişkan responded and slapped his bottom.

Hal lurched forward slightly. “Careful...” he hissed, as he caught his balance.

“Bend down, Harry,” the lord demanded, and Hal did as he asked. “Clean yourself. I don’t want any filthy surprises... you hear?” he murmured in his ear gripping a handful of honey coloured curls. Then he let go with a push.

Wordlessly, the prince gritted his teeth and retreated from the room not caring if he’d missed serving a few people.

Around midnight, Hal was disturbed in his sleep when he heard the door close with a smack. Sitting up in the bed, the prince watched as a figure stumbled closer, and he realised that the lord in fact intended to sleep in his bed tonight. Nearly two months had gone with him telling everyone who cared listening that he claimed Hal every night in this very bed.

Hal chose the opposite side of the bed from the one the lord neared, clutching a candlestick in one hand.

“Harry?” the lord asked.

“Yes?” Hal responded.

“I’m going to take you now, so move to the middle of the bed.”

Hal snorted incredulously. “I’m the crown prince of England, you lousy swine!”

“No. You’re my servant. My captive. Such fun and I... now, service me,” the lord said incoherently.

Çalişkan managed to put the candlestick on the night table and climbed onto the bed with much difficulty and huffing.

Hal watched with narrowed eyes to establish some order of what he was seeing.

“Why don’t you lie on your back, my lord? I’ll give you good ride, hm?” Hal suddenly suggested and stepped out of the bed, gathering his nightshirt around his hips in the process.

The lord laughed. “Fine – if you prefer taking it like a girl. But then you _are_ quite pretty, Harry... Henry... did you know that?” the lord slurred and reached out in the general direction towards Hal.

“And you’re sarding drunk, you cunt,” Hal stated quietly; waiting patiently for the lord to simply fall asleep.

Which happened within minutes. 

Hal watched the man as he began to snore. Determined, Hal pulled his shirt over his blonde curly head and grabbed his cock. Getting hard enough to come didn’t take Hal long and, when he was ready, he climbed on top of his enemy and pushed the man’s nightgown above his waistline. Then Hal slapped the lord’s flaccid dick a few times with his own rigid one before he jerked off until his release landed in the area of Çalişkan’s exposed crotch.

“Figure that out when you wake up, you vile pig,” Hal said and wiped his cock in the man’s garment. Slowly, he let his hands drift up his long naked torso and caress his hard nipples and smooth shoulders. It felt good to have done what he just did, and Hal took his time sensing his body as the pleasure from his orgasm subsided. His thoughts drifted to Ned and a small smile traced his features, when he remembered the adventurous trysts they’d shared in bed. Hal missed his home so very much, and he detested the man underneath him for putting him in captivity in the first place. Hal supposed he should be grateful he wasn’t thrown in a dungeon below the castle with the other miserable sods, but this life wasn't exactly glamorous either.

An ugly sneer appeared on Hal’s face and he felt like spitting on Çalişkan’s prone figure. But he didn’t and climbed out of the bed once more. Instead, he located the leather recliner near the fireplace. Picking up his nightshirt, Hal put it on on his way to it. There was a soft spread of fur in a pile on top of the furniture that he pulled around him. Then he was finally able to lie down and try to get some rest.

 

The next couple of days, Hal sensed that the lord was confused. He tried to gauge Hal’s reaction, but the young prince ignored him and didn’t let him get a chance to figure out if he had succeeded in bedding him or not.

Hal had not been ordered to stay in the lord’s bed since that night, and the novelty of that decision quickly got old amongst the rest of the population in the castle who cared to gossip.

New exciting gossip flourished the halls of the castle. Merchants from abroad were bound to arrive any day bringing all kinds of goods to the marketplace. Once a month, outside traders were allowed to enter the city walls and offer goods the city couldn’t provide for themselves.

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"Make sure we find a good spot, Eric. We want to get noticed," Craig the Furrier told his son. They were early that morning, bringing along an extra horse loaded with their merchandise: Gloves, hats, and other irresistible items. Goods better than what these people could make themselves. The Cimbreaus were not known for great craftsmanship.

Eric was a skilled huntsman and his father was the master behind most of their merchandise. Eric helped as much as he could, but he'd never been as good with a needle and thread the way his father was.

"Father, let us take this spot. It's close to the castle. We'll be the first shop someone from court will notice."

"Very well," Craig said and the two men quickly raised their little tent and arranged their wares in a fashion that they easily could keep an eye on them.

It didn't take more than half an hour before Eric noticed that the same maid strolled past a few times. Eric passed the time preparing a sheep skein and Craig did what he did best, creating a wristlet, lined with wolf fur. Rolling his eyes discreetly, Eric identified a member of the court when he saw one and this individual was very bad at disguising her obvious interest.

Eventually, the woman neared them and Craig looked up from his task and nodded. "How may I help you, Madam?"

"My Lady Çalişkan wishes to sample your goods under more private conditions. Would you kindly take your business inside, furrier?"

Craig nodded, “Of course. We'll be there as soon as we break down the tent."

Eric got up and hastily broke down the tent, while Craig packed the horses. Half an hour later, father and son were escorted inside the castle and ushered upstairs for the customers impatiently waiting to be entertained by the goods they had to offer.

“I bloody well hope their wallets are bottomless. We need to sell a lot if we're limited to the castle only," Eric muttered to his father or else it would be a waste to drag their stuff away from the market place.

“The wench seemed certain,” Craig muttered back, and they quickly captured each other’s eyes for a silent conversation. A couple of men helped carrying their load into the designated room suited for the ladies’ perusing. 

“We can manage to arrange everything ourselves just fine,” Craig assured one of them putting a firm hand on his possessions, when he tried to help unpacking a bunch of small parcels tied up with strings.

Eric put a hand to his hip and sent one of the others an amused smile. Then his smile faltered when he discovered the one person there who stood out like a sore thumb, but he didn’t care to meet the direct stare that was served back at him; intense eyes that did not belong to the average servant. Moments later, Eric lifted an eyebrow in a small challenge, but he didn’t say anything to the man and quickly looked away. Always trying to keep a low profile, Eric only wished to avoid any kind of unwanted attention while they stayed here.

As soon as they’d set up shop, several ladies and gentlemen strolled into the room and began sorting through the displayed wares. 

Lord Çalişkan appeared, too, and Eric thought he looked smug. However, his smugness meant that he was pleased to be able to buy his women nice things and hopefully, that meant a good deal for Eric and his father now they were here.

Soon the man came and stood next to Eric. “I hope you’ll allow me to offer my hospitality, as I’m sure my wife and daughters would like to order something special - if you will accomodate us in your busy schedule?”

Immediately, Craig nodded. “We’ll be honoured, my lord.”

“Father,” Eric hissed as soon as the lord had moved on. “We have plans for London. This will delay everything!”

“I know. But we can’t exactly tell him that,” Craig warned him, lowering his voice even further. 

Eric nodded. London was a sore subject around these parts - especially since Prince Henry was not returned yet to the court. Eric wondered for how long Lord Çalişkan really intended to keep the prince in his captivity. So far, there had been no progress from his side even though the ransom had been paid... at least that’s what the rumours said. Maybe the lord intended for the prince to simply rot in his prison cellars. 

“Ladies!” someone called out. “Gather your purchases and we shall continue tomorrow.”

Carefully, Craig had noted every item the customers had showed an interest in. And if they requested some changes to be made, he made sure to note that, too. This meant they were both in for a long night. Usually, Eric was not pleased to see all their furs and skeins end in one place. Normally, they frequented market places in and around of London to be sold for a higher price at times when their cash flow was low. 

After they had secured their goods, father and son were shown a room where they could rest for the remainder of their stay. They were put in the servants’ quarters but probably in a better room than the servants themselves. That was very good and kept them close to where the gossip flowed freely.

“Hopefully, they serve some edible food, father,” Eric said. “I wouldn't mind a break from having broth for every meal.”

“We’ll take what they offer, son. At least we don't have to pay for our food,” Craig pointed out.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if we were asked to, mind you,” Eric said. "I for one can't wait to get away from this area so we can be sure where our next meal is coming from.”

Later they were escorted to the dinner hall. Many people were already gathered and they were appointed seats in the far end of the room, however facing the main table where Lord Çalişkan was already seated with his family.

“Ah, there you are!” Lord Çalişkan exclaimed and raised his mug. “Make sure to keep the ale coming, Harry,” he said to the young man Eric had taking an interest in earlier that day. “These gentlemen are thirsty and hungry after a putting up with my wife and daughters’ whims.” The joke was met with predictable laughter from his guests.

Eric found his eyes drift to those of the young man and again he was witnessing a surprising hostility from the simple servant. Eric looked away carefully. He shouldn’t really show any interest in the servants at all. Eventually, it always caught someone’s attention and that’s what Eric really didn’t want. However, it wouldn’t do either when a servant thought he was above a guest – even as plain as a huntsman truly was. Slowly, the young man came over to their table carrying two jugs of ale.

“Just put it on the table, Harry. They can have them both!” Lord Çalişkan shouted from the other side of the room.

“I think I know how to serve ale,” Eric heard the man respond. The disrespect he showed his master only fuelled Eric’s suspicion. Darting his eyes particularly towards the guests, Eric realised that the man was not going to chastise his arrogant servant. Eric even wondered if he’d heard him. It made him nervous and alerter.

Their eyes met briefly again, and to Eric’s annoyance, he was letting himself be entertained by how this ‘Harry’ took small liberties to insult those around him... especially towards his own Lordship.

“They will whip you for this,” Eric warned him.

“No, they won’t,” came the cocky answer, and Eric found Harry’s eyes resting on his. Eyes so vibrant and so far from the disinterested look he’d expected to find on his face. This servant was not dulled with the knowledge of having no other opportunities in life but serving others. They had more in common than Eric wanted to be confronted with, and he wondered how much trouble Harry threw himself into on a daily basis. Truly, Eric wanted their business within the castle finished as soon as possible.

“Perhaps you’d like to go hunting for fox?” Lady Çalişkan suddenly addressed them.

“My lady?” Craig responded very interested.

“I didn’t see any fox in your inventory, furrier.”

“That is very true. We haven’t been lucky to find some without mange for a while, I’m afraid.”

“We have plenty of foxes around here. You might seem to be able to find a fine example.”

Craig turned and smiled at Eric before he responded, “It’s not really the season, my lady...”

“How do you mean? Aren’t there foxes all time of the year?”

“Yes, but in spring they’re raising cubs so we never...”

“Can you or can you not hunt fox, furrier?” the woman asked completely disinterested in Craig’s argument.

“Father...” Eric quieted Craig when he tried to explain once more. “This is the perfect opportunity.” Then he raised the volume of his voice and said, “We’ll find you a fox tomorrow, my lady.”

Lord Çalişkan snorted at the ridiculous little conversation that had just occurred. Then he pointed at the male servant and said, “Take Harry with you. I’m sure he’ll be happy to get some fresh air. If he tries to escape...” the lord paused, as he turned his face towards Eric, “Hunt him down.”

Everyone in the room became quiet and stared at the lord.

“What? He’s _my_ serf, and if I want him pacified, I can bloody well do as I please.”

“But my lord...” someone sitting close by looked concerned and they carried a hushed exchange for a while. 

Contradicting the lord in general was not a good idea. Besides, he was in his good right. Wordlessly, Eric looked at his father and Crag nodded back. The suggestion needed careful consideration. If the lord felt this lowly about his own people, he would feel even less for Eric and his father. They, too, could risk becoming a target before they had a chance to move on.

“We should never have taken our business inside the castle. Discussing the fate of serfs at dinner is not a fruitful conduct.”

“We can’t always avoid procedures we don’t like," Craig responded.

“But we knew this task was trouble from the start after the war they just sprung on England...”

“Shut up, Eric,” Craig warned nearly putting his hand over his son’s mouth to stop him from speaking.

Eric darted a quick look around to find the servant in question, but the man had left the room. Eric didn’t really blame him. The lord had looked a little too pleased when he proposed what Eric should do to the servant if he tried to escape. Eric knew what he was in fact indicating: The servant Harry wasn’t really a servant. He was a prisoner, a serf, or in another state of captivity. Bottom line being that he was not in a position to leave the city walls where he was bound.

A little itch prickled at the back of Eric’s neck. He wondered if this Harry could be the prince... The name sure was the same. Eric knew what the prince looked like from a general description. He had in fact seen the prince once when he was just a boy himself, but he honestly couldn’t recall what his face looked like. That day on the market place there had been many small princes and princesses present, and Eric had only really noticed the magnificence of King IV on his horse.

Eric tried to stay away from the politics that always threatened to corrupt a country and this incident with Prince Hal’s disappearance was one of the worst of its kind born on greed for money or power. 

All in all, Eric was very close to have proof of the fact that Lord Çalişkan was still holding the crown prince of England as his captive. Moreover, he was using him as his personal errand boy.

That said, Eric still didn’t like the way the presumed prince behaved, but it would be naïve to think that years of impeccable pedigree could be removed just by degrading the man to this station in life. Perhaps, Lord Çalişkan had imagined he was able to break his spirit, but the contrary seemed more likely to be the case, and it was obvious that the lord had been amused by it.

Until now.

Eric wasn’t entirely certain why the lord would let Harry lose by participating in the hunt. Unless Çalişkan hoped that the serf would rebel and give Eric an excuse to hurt him or maybe even kill him; thus making Eric the tool to get rid of the prisoner now that the lord had the ransom. But if he was the prince, why not simply send him home like these matters usually were dealt with? The king had another son, Thomas, just a year younger than the crown prince to step in and inherit the throne. Why was Harry special to Çalişkan?

Eric shook his head and excused himself. “Thank you for your hospitality. We shall retire and get ready for the hunt tomorrow, my lord.” 

“Good. Harry will come along then.”

“As you wish, my lord,” Eric said, bowed stiffly, and left the dining room with Craig following close by.

 

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	2. Chapter 2

“ 'arry?” Jim said and pushed at Hal’s shoulder. 

Bolting upright, Hal stared wildly at Jim. “What?” he asked, as he tried to clear his mind. He’d been in a deep sleep and had no idea what time it was. “Am I late?”

“No. It’s in the middle of the night.”

“Then why by Christ’s blood are you waking me up?”

Jim gulped by hearing Hal using such a strong explicative and hurried forth his message, “His Lordship was asking for you.”

“He was?” Hal responded and sighed. “Bloody, sarding _hell_.”

Not brothering to change into his clothes, Hal followed a guard who would take him to the lord’s chambers but, to his surprise, he was redirected merely a few yards further down the corridor to another door.

“You’re wanted in here, Harry,” the guard said and left. Hal took a deep breath and waited until the guard was out of sight. Knocking quietly, Harry then opened the door and stepped in.

Looking around he found a small fireplace ablaze and, in front of it, the huntsman from last night. Hal ran a hand over his face. He was still tired.

“Why did you insist on waking me up?” he inquired.

The big bloke turned towards him. “Come and warm yourself by the fire. We have to leave soon.”

The surprise on Hal’s face was enough to make the other man crack a small smile. “Why this soon?”

“Too soon for you?”

“No, but I had kitchen duty last night, so I’ve barely slept more than an hour,” Hal informed him and, the second he’d said that, he immediately regretted confiding in the stranger.

“Well, I didn’t exactly arrange this, if you recall. I’m not overly fond of killing bitches busy feeding their cubs,” the huntsman said not able to curb the anger in his voice. 

“I do recall, _Huntsman_. And I’m not overly fond of the prospect of getting my spine severed by that heavy axe of yours, so you needn't worry,” Hal snarled back.

“Then we understand each other,” the man said. “You behave and I take my time finding a handful of male foxes. I doubt that the _bitches_ in this household can tell the difference.”

Hal pressed his lips tight. In comparison to the lord, he didn’t want any quarrel with this man who had actual _permission_ to hurt him. 

“You’re not dressed?”

“I was told the lord wanted to see me. Why would I need to dress?” Hal said, and enjoyed the shock that appeared on the huntsman’s face. “Don't look at me like that,” Hal said.

“I...” The huntsman was clearly at a loss for words and went to a small table to break his early fast. “You hungry?” 

“Yes. I am,” Hal said and went to join him.

“I don't like you and you don't like me, so let’s keep it that way," the huntsman pointed out.

“Fine,” Hal said and dug in.

"Do you have any garments suited for our task?"

"I've never assisted a huntsman, so I..."

"Don't play cute, Harry," the huntsman said, and Hal realised he was indeed behaving like a brat. The huntsman was only trying to get this over with as soon as quickly as Hal did himself. Still, he might have a small chance at escaping. _Who are you trying to fool?_ he asked himself. He was out of shape, practically malnourished, and where would he try running to before the huntsman tracked him down? After all, that was the man's occupation.

"You can have more, you know," the huntsman suddenly said.

Hal stopped eating and stared at his bowl. "I..."

"You probably don't get fed every day, I reckon," the huntsman said.

"And I bet that you do," Hal retorted.

"Not in these parts," the man grunted and took another helping.

"Unfortunately, I can't eat more. My belly is full."

The huntsman didn't say anything but filled his bowl. Getting on his feet, he grabbed a satchel and gathered some bits from the tray to bring for the trip for Hal. Hal didn't watch. It was embarrassing how grateful he felt that the man even bothered doing this for him.

"I've taken the liberty to anticipate that you wouldn't have clothing befitted for a hunt,” the huntsman said, continuing the conversation he previously started. "Feel free to put those on." The huntsman pointed towards a stool nearby and Hal went to have a look at them. 

"Are we riding?" Hal asked.

"Can you ride?" came the counter question laced with an oddly understood amusement.

"I can ride. I'm a master rider," Hal muttered under his breath, but the man must have heard him, because he registered a soft snort. Grabbing a pair of hose, Hal quickly put them on and donned the laces. He preferred riding in leather leggings, but these would suffice and they probably weren't going to ride. Quickly, he slipped his night gown off, and put on the under tunic and long-sleeved cotte that the huntsman had provided. The under tunic was a bit big over the shoulders, but it was made from linen and softer than his usual scratchy woollen garment. The cotte fit him perfectly since he and the huntsman were approximately the same height.

"It's cold. You'd better put on a doublé... this is the smallest I can offer... I reckon you only have the clothes you normally wear," the huntsman stated and Hal thought he detected a hint of embarrassment on his behalf in the huntsman's voice. The man was right. It was embarrassing, but Hal didn't need pity. He needed action. He needed to get away from here, but he couldn't tell him that. Hal could risk more than he gained by revealing to him who he really was. If the huntsman didn’t believe him, he had the lord's permission to choose any action to prevent his escape from succeeding. And worse – the huntsman could be from around these parts and in reality an enemy to Hal and the English crown.

"I don't need advice on how to dress myself, Huntsman," Hal said.

The huntsman looked Hal in the eye, and the prince tried not to pay attention to how striking this fellow was. Sharp sapphire blue eyes swept over his entire body and Hal felt his pulse rise. 

"You look like you're ready to keel over," was all the man said.

Hal was feeling exhausted but no more than on any other day. "Let's get on with it," he said.

Amused the huntsman said, "Little serf. I do believe I'm the one setting the tempo here, don’t you?"

Hal closed his eyes. He still tended to forget that he was not in charge of anything, but he was still trying to take the lead because part of his upbringing was to one day rule England. "Of course, Huntsman."

"Call me Eric," the man suddenly offered.

"Call me Harry,” Hal said with a hint of amusement.

"That's your name?" Eric asked, and Hal froze.

"Y...yes," he said.

"Henry? That is your name?"

"I just said so."

"Fine. Sometimes people are just called what they are called," Eric elaborated, but Hal didn't reply and just grabbed the aforementioned doublé and put it on. Again, it fit almost perfectly.

"All right, let's head out," the huntsman said and grabbed the satchel. 

"What shall I carry?" Hal asked.

"So far nothing," Eric said and shortly after, they left the castle.

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Their exhales showed as mist in the chilly air; the woods around Cimbreau so close by that it only took them ten minutes on foot to be completely surrounded by trees.

"Do you know these parts?" Eric asked already busy following trails because they were interesting.

"No. I'm... I'm not from around here," the serf informed him. Eric nodded. With each little vague and hesitant information, Eric became surer that he was in the company of the prince. At the same time, he had the distinct feeling that his companion was reluctant to reveal his identity. In truth, Eric didn’t want the prince to disclose himself too soon. That would be dangerous if the knowledge fell into the wrong hands. So far, it was safest if Eric pretended he didn’t know anything.

The trees were growing wild in these parts and it was easy for someone unused to this kind of travel to get lost in the dark. Soon the sun would rise and Eric wanted to be done before that or else the foxes would go hiding to sleep the day away.

Harry was better acquainted with this task than Eric had been prepared to give him credit for. It was a great advantage that the prince was a soldier and knew how to move without a sound.

"Be very quiet," Eric admonished him nevertheless some time later. They were close to a bog and he knew there would be foxes in the area. Suddenly, a male specimen crossed their path nervously and immediately, Eric threw his axe striking the fleeing animal in the hind leg.

"By Christ's leg," the prince muttered sounding impressed.

"Can't ruin the fur..." Eric explained in a hurry and ran towards the howling beast. Swiftly, he ended its life only to hear the sound of someone else fleeing.

"Oh, no you don't!" Eric yelled, got on his feet, and ran in the direction of crushed branches and dry leaves.

The prince was fast on his feet considering how weak he was, but Eric was faster. Suddenly, he heard a new sound he didn’t like very much. The prince had fallen into the bog, which he surely had not planned.

"Can you swim?"

"I'm being pulled down!" Harry cried out terrified.

Eric moved towards the edge of the bog as soon as he arrived. "Where are you?"

"Here!" the man yelled back.

"Keep calm and don't try to move too much. It'll only get worse!"

Straining his eyes, Eric suddenly saw him. It wasn't that far out but enough that Harry couldn't get out of the element on his own.

Searching in his satchel, Eric pulled out some rope and quickly tied it around his waist. Then he called out. "I'm throwing some rope towards you. Try and catch it!"

"Obviously," Harry snarled back but as soon as he heard the rope hit the water, he frantically reached for it. "Any time you're ready, Eric!"

Eric began to pull and, by the sound of it, the lanky serf slipped out of the water’s muddy grasp.

When the man was safely back on the ground, he collapsed in Eric's arms. 

"You're wet and cold. Why did you have to try and escape? What were you thinking to accomplish? You have no idea how to get out of this place."

"I want to get _out_ of here," Harry said with a trembling voice, “I don’t belong here."

"I don't care and there is nothing I can do about it. You'll follow me back to those you belong to. Like everybody else, you can't leave. You’re tied to this estate and only Lord Çalişkan can...” Eric mollified him.

“I know how the system works,” Harry hissed before he pressed his lips together to prevent himself from speaking out more words, though he clearly burned with the desire to spill them.

"I have my fox. Let's get back, Harry," Eric said and helped the exhausted man to his feet. 

Slowly, the two tall men went back towards the castle in a much slower pace. Harry was cold, wet, and miserable from his unfortunate accident, but that couldn't be helped until they were back inside.

"Just my damned luck," Harry muttered when they passed the city gate. Of all times, why would Lord Çalişkan be out at this ungodly time of the day?

Recognising them immediately, the lord rode towards them with an expectant look on his face.

Eric nodded apprehensively when the lord was next to them.

With glee, Lord Çalişkan pointed at Harry. "What have we here? Did he try to escape as I predicted?"

"You predicted nothing," the serf answered with chattering teeth.

"Did he try to escape, Huntsman?" the Lord demanded, ignoring his serf.

"No. He fell into the bog as we brought down this beast," Eric lied as he dropped the dead fox on the ground. "I saved him from drowning," he continued and felt the gasp of surprise keenly when the prince took in a deep breath.

"You... you saved his life?" Lord Çalişkan asked to make sure he wasn’t mistaking.

"Yes, my lord," Eric said and shrugged.

Çalişkan drummed his fingers on his thigh, as he clearly considered the news.

“My lord... This man is cold and wet. He needs...” Eric began.

“Yes, yes. Take him to the castle,” the lord interrupted.

Eric picked up his pray and continued to help Harry towards the castle.

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Hal was grateful that Eric wasn’t dropping him off at the servant’s quarters but stopped by his own accomodations.

“Father?” The huntsman’s father looked up from where he was busy making adjustments on furs for the Ladyship of the house. The man came over and took the beast from Eric, while the huntsman helped Harry to his cot.

“Eric, what are you doing?” the man asked worriedly.

“I’m making sure he’s surviving a trip into the bog.”

“He fell?”

“Yeah – let’s just say that’s what happened and I saved this _nuisance’s_ life,” Eric muttered, earning a death glare from the serf. “Well, you’re not really helping, are you, Harry?”

“He tried to escape?”

“Father... I don’t care to discuss this ‘individual’.”

The furrier’s expression shifted to something akin to understanding, and Hal could only guess what that meant. Clearly, they didn’t think highly of him and that irked as much as his missed chance at escaping did.

“Let’s not discuss anything at presence. I have to step outside with this animal. The sooner we can leave the better. Excuse me,” Eric continued before he left the room.

Hal lay on top of Eric’s bed listening in on the conversation father and son had just exchanged. He was still shivering and looked wearily at Eric’s father, as he came over and took in his wet garments.

“We’d better get these clothes off you, son. You’ll get warm in no time.”

“That’s all right,” Hal said quietly. 

“No. It’s not all right. You can get sick from those waters. Only God knows what evil sickness you could get from being in that? Did you swallow any of the water?”

Hal had no idea. _It all happened so fast._

“I bet it did,” the man said.

“Oh, did I say that out loud?” Hal wondered.

The furrier chuckled. “Yes, you did. Harry was it?”

“However, you’re right. I’m Harry,” Hal said and sighed. The man’s hands were gentle as he stripped the wet clothes off Hal's body.

“I am Craig - Eric’s father.”

Hal nodded. “I just need to sleep...”

“Sleep then,” Craig said.

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Later, Hal woke with a start.

"Don't get up, Harry," Hal heard Craig's voice from a corner.

"I'm probably needed in the kitchen..." Hal scratched his hair. "I smell."

"Stay in bed. His Lordship is aware of your whereabouts. I made sure that you're not needed anywhere today."

"And he approves?" Hal asked suspiciously.

"I haven't heard anything that should tell me otherwise," was the furrier's cryptic response.

Hal fell back on his back. "Where is Eric?"

"Getting the fox ready," Craig replied. "Are you hungry?"

"Still... how long can it take?"

"It's ready. I can give you some now. It's soup."

"No - I mean. The fox?"

"Soon."

Hal nodded and sat up. He was wearing the night gown he left in the room earlier. Getting up, he slowly lumbered to the table where Craig sat working.

"Always working," Hal murmured.

"That’s how we get paid."

Hal smiled. "Yes. That is how we get paid. Only some us are not."

"Serfs, you mean?"

" _Slaves._ Serfs are no more than slaves, Craig. It's just another word to keep the lords happy."

"You shouldn't talk this way, Harry."

"If not me, then whom?" Hal muttered.

"You shouldn't speak out like this, _Henry_ ," Craig said again, his warning clear in the tone of his voice.

"Who shouldn't speak up?" Hal heard Eric's voice as he entered the room.

"None of you," Craig said and reached over and set a bowl with soup in front of Hal as well as in front of the seat next to him.

Looking up, Hal noticed that the insufferable self-assured huntsman was clean washed. His hair was surprisingly blonder now that it had been washed in soap. The big fellow was even more fetching now than he had seemed previously and incredulous, Hal quickly turned his attention to his soup. His own body's reaction under these circumstances was not appreciated. He recognised the signs of a harmless infatuation and then of all to someone who rubbed him the wrong way. He couldn’t afford other feelings right now but anger, survival, and concentrating on another prospect to escape. 

Nevertheless, Hal also knew that he'd been suppressing his carnal desires for so long that they were surfacing now that he was being subjected to Eric’s alluring masculinity. Hal hadn't had sex since before he was taken hostage, and the opportunities he'd had to pleasure himself had been few and awkward. Privacy for serfs was practically non-existent, and Hal was usually too worn out to desire anything all the same.

"We're required in the hall," Eric interrupted his thoughts and quickly slurped the soup. 

"Why this urgent?" Craig asked immediately.

"I have a feeling we're not going to be around for much longer. We'll see if we even get the time to pack our stuff."

"This is serious, but we can manage," Craig said.

"Let's hear what the lord has to say. You," Eric got up and pointed at Hal who dropped the bowl he was holding.

Standing up, Hal waited calmly.

"I reckon our nurse duty is surely over."

"Quite," Hal said and pulled off the night gown. He couldn't wait to get out of their hair. Looking around in the room, he found his old homespun clothes and put them on. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, and your kindness has been more than anyone in my position could have asked for," Hal said and headed for the door.

"Not so fast," Eric grunted. Hal stopped and turned to face him slowly.

"What?" he asked. 

"Your presence has been required as well, Harry."

"I was headed that way anyway," Hal said, knowing he couldn't stretch his rest any longer.

"No. You're requested alongside with us," Eric elaborated.

Hal nodded. "I see." His pulse rose as thoughts about what this meant went through his head. Maybe the ransom had finally been paid? Desperately, he tried to push the seed of hope that blossomed in his soul down. If there was something he had learned in this godforsaken place, it was that if you hoped for something to happen, you shouldn’t even bother. Someone always made sure to intervene.

Craig got up and put on his cotte. "Let's go then. Better not keep his Lordship waiting."

Harry waited for the furrier and his son to pass him before he went behind them, biting a dirty nail.

In the hall, the lord greeted them as he had the night before. Only this time, he came forth and scrutinised Hal's face before he reached out and grabbed his jaw.

"So you really did not try to escape, Harry?"

Hal met his look and tapped into Eric's lie for the sake of all of them. "No. We hunted beasts. The foxes your daughters desire of the furriers."

Lord Çalişkan let go of Hal with a push and looked at Eric who stood calmly and intensely watched what happened. Then the lord addressed Craig.

"Furrier, I believe you are in your right to claim a boon for your son’s chevalier towards my serf." As always, the people present in the dining hall responded to Çalişkan’s jokes with bursts of laughter.

"My lord?" Craig asked calmly.

"Ask anything of me... within reason."

Eric put his hand on his father's shoulder and spoke. "In that case, we respectfully request the ownership to the serf I saved to be handed over to us."

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	3. Chapter 3

This time no one present laughed. Instead, a general noise of curiosity spread around in the hall. Eric was probably the only person except for the serf who noticed how Lord Çalişkan gritted his teeth, as his request clearly was analysed in his head.

His lack of response prompted several suggestions from his advisers.

“Enough. I don’t believe I offered my staff...”

"But that's a reasonable request, my Lord," a guest commented.

“I’m particularly _fond_ of Harry.”

“Only yesterday, my Lord, you gave the Huntsman permission to kill him. That’s not fond!” a guest boomed and his jest did cause laughter to erupt.

Then the lord plastered a smooth smile on his face and nodded with a threatening expression in his eyes. "By all means then," he droned nasally, "Have the whore - and the trouble that sticks to his name like flies on _shit_." Çalişkan emphasised his displeasure by throwing the food he held in his hand back on his plate.

Eric nodded unimpressed.

"And one more thing. I think your visit here is long overdue - don't you agree?" Lord Çalişkan said silkily, a warning clearly packed within his rhetorical question.

Eric exchanged a quick look with his father who had an inscrutable look on his face. 

"But papa!" the girls whined at the prospect of not getting their fox fur as promised.

"We'll leave immediately," Eric said, casting a quick glance towards the serf who, quite frankly, looked like he was in shock.

Lord Çalişkan looked positively menacingly at Eric but there was nothing the man could do, or else he would lose face if he revoked the boon. No one else knew who this serf was and beginning to show too much care for him now - when he'd treated him so lowly - would only cause suspicion.

Eric was in no doubt that the lord had no intention of letting anyone at this court know who Harry really was. Or maybe Eric placed too much faith into what these people really cared about. On the other hand, he was quite certain that they would care if England pledged war against their foul leader, which in reality meant that _they_ would suffer.

"Out," Eric hissed at Harry and his father and, when Harry still didn’t react, Eric simply grabbed his hand and dragged him along like a child.

The crowd was still very amused by the scenario and laughed at how Eric removed the troublesome serf, whose sharp tongue for once had no biting remark to the lord's daily insults.

“I can’t believe I’m passed on to the next greedy couple of scoundrels looking for...” Harry finally said, apparently back to normal.

“That’s quite enough, Harry,” Craig interrupted sharply. “Nothing can be achieved from here and until we’re back in our accommodations.”

Harry seemed to agree because he just pressed his lips shut as he looked at Craig with blazing eyes of indignation.

Back in their room, the two men hastily packed everything as efficiently as they could. A big leather bag was brought fourth that didn’t even look like it had been touched while they’d stayed in the castle.

“What about the furs?” Harry asked.

“We’re leaving it here,” Craig just said and sent Harry a look that warned him not to be tempted to touch the subject again.

"Are we ready?" Eric asked his father.

"Yes, I think so. Harry, do you have anything you need to bring along?" Craig quickly inquired.

Eric looked sharply at the prince, but the young man just shook his head.

“What are we waiting for then? Let us leave," Eric commanded.

Hurriedly, they left the castle and headed for the stable to gather their horses and apply their belongings on the mule.

“Am I not to ride a horse?" Harry asked when he realised the arrangement of the animals.

“Oh, well...” “No!” came the mixed replies from father and son.

“Why not, Eric?” Craig asked surprised.

“Absolutely not, father. After all this trouble? He’ll try and escape,” Eric said, looking hard at Harry.

Harry met his gaze right on.

“You’re our serf now.”

“Eric!” Craig warned his son’s choice of words.

“And we’re heading towards London. You can... escape there to your heart’s content.”

Harry gaped at the man, and then his entire stance tensed. “You knew, you sarded cunt! All this time, by Christ’s bloody cross, you knew!” he cried out with furious indignation.

“Shut your mouth, Harry!” Eric admonished with a low growl. “Right now, what’s important is for us to get out of here alive. And you behaving like a brat is not helping.”

“Why delay the journey by making me walk on foot to London? The end result is the same!”

“Serfs don't ride, you fool, so. Start. Walking, Harry,” Eric said and pointed straight ahead towards the market place.

Harry was fumingly angry, but he had no means to fight Eric who was superior in all the ways that mattered. By god, the hatred was so palpable on the prince's handsome face. The huntsman liked that Harry was aware that he knew the prince's identity, but also that there was nothing he could do about it but behave. And the prince was struggling as anger fuelled his steps towards the long journey ahead.

“A little gratitude would be appropriated,” Eric couldn’t help commenting.

Harry turned and presented him with the sign of forked fingers, wishing him to hell.

The huntsman just laughed at the impressive insult.

“Would you two stop bickering?” his father asked. “The journey is long enough as it is.”

Eric just grunted but acknowledged and set his horse into a trot.

"Are you cold, Harry?" Craig asked.

"NO! I’ll warm myself from this exertion," Harry barked.

"Oh, you do feel sorry for yourself, don't you?" Eric said.

Harry turned and ran to grab the bridle of Eric’s horse. "Yes. I do. What of it? I've been held in captivity for two months with no knowledge whether the ransom has been paid or why nothing is happening. I don’t know if my king is alive. How would you feel if you did not know if your father was still alive after the war we just had? I was never supposed to be here!"

He took in a long breath.

"You are a gold digger," Harry pointed at Eric. "And I will see to that you pay from continuing my imprisonment.”

“I got you out of your sarded misery, you silly fool!" Eric yelled. 

“Only to put me into another! For how long do you expect me to be grateful, Huntsman?”

"Maybe I should have asked for money, and you'd still be rotting away in that castle. Yeah – How about that, Harry? The ransom was paid by the king weeks ago. Huh? What witty reply do you have for yourself?"

Harry just looked at him. "You're jesting," he gasped and grabbed the bridle tighter.

"No, I am not, Harry. I doubt Lord Çalişkan was ever going to let you go."

"But you took advantage of my situation when you could have asked for something else."

"Would have been the same result no matter what I chose. I can't believe you're actually angry that I chose you, Harry! But I have a liking to making life hell for bratty stray dogs. Be thankful you don’t grow fur I can harvest," Eric said. “Move, Harry.” 

“Must you aggravate each other every second of the day?” Craig asked with amusement in his voice. When both turned to look at Craig questioningly, the older man just laughed.

“What is so funny?” Eric asked his father.

“Nothing, son,” Craig said and urged his horse forward. “Only that you’re behaving like a married couple.”

Strangely enough that seemed to do the trick, and Harry stepped away from Eric like he burned himself in his proximity. They continued the travel without exchanging words for the next couple of hours to Craig’s utmost relief.

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Late in the afternoon, the trio made camp in a small clearing not detectable from the road. In general, they hadn’t chosen main paths at all, which Hal found would only prolong their journey but also give them advantages should Çalişkan entertain the thought of conquering him back. Admittedly, Hal approved of his companions’ choice on the matter. A repeat of his stay at Cimbreau would be unbearable.

With admirable skills, Eric made a fire in no time and, as soon as the horses were cared for, he left to hunt down their meal.

Hal sat quietly, still mulling over Eric’s words. Looking at Craig who used all the spare time he had on his craft, he asked, “Is it true? That the ransom has been paid?”

“Yes. As far as the rumour goes,” Craig said, looking at Hal with his kind thoughtful eyes.

“I see. What a cruel deed,” Hal said softly and pressed his fingers against his eyes that suddenly stung.

“I’m sure everything will work out for the best. As you know, the prince escaped his captivity... _recently_ ,” Craig stressed and trained his eyes back on the needle between his fingers.

Hal snorted. “I think you’re right.”

Craig said nothing but a small smile crept across a face that looked so much like his son’s. “How are you, Harry? Can you still walk?”

“I must admit I’m probably not able to walk much further today, furrier.”

“Then we shall rest here for the night,” Craig replied.

“Thank you,” Hal said and yawned.

“You are welcome, son.”

Not long after, Eric returned and brought with him a small animal of which specie Hal couldn’t discern due to the approaching darkness. Sitting next to Hal on a log by the fire, the huntsman began gutting the small beast with measured movements, and Hal watched as his thoughts drifted back to the strange day.  
Before he realised that the time had flown by, the air was filled with the delicious smells of the roasted meat. Hal was tired but also very hungry. “I hope I can stay awake for this meal,” he muttered.

“If not, I’ll force-feed you like a goose,” Eric said.

“I’d like to see you try,” Hal replied but without any malice.

Eventually, Hal was too hungry to even think about sleeping and gratefully, he accepted the meal the huntsman had provided.

Sighing with a deep groan, Hal bit into tender meat stuffed with tasty herbs and crunchy roots that seemed to appear from the couple’s backpacks.

"Good, right?" Eric asked, and it was and Hal acknowledged that.

"Yes," he said and reached for another piece.

"Take the large one," Eric said and kipped his chin towards the improvised plate of food.

Hal hesitated realising he might be eating more than his share.

"Go on, Harry. You need it more than us," Craig encouraged the prince.

Harry sighed and mumbled, "Thank you." It had been quite a while since he'd encountered kindness like Craig the Furrier's. He would make sure to reward this man... and grudgingly, he had to accept that that meant that he couldn’t punish the huntsman even though he was making him see red most of the time.

"Let's get some sleep. We still have a long way ahead of us," Craig said and went to fetch a bedroll. "Oh," he said and halted. "Eric... did we remember to bring a bedroll for Harry?"

"He'll share with me," Eric said.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Oh, no he won't."

"Oh, yes he will," Eric overruled. "Either he does or he can sleep on the ground for all I care."

Hal was fed up with Eric’s attitude and, only because he desperately needed sleep did he wait for Eric to rearrange his sleeping roll to accommodate the two of them.

"How did you imagine we'd both fit on that?" Hal asked as he inspected the accommodations.

"I'll spoon you, little serf," Eric taunted.

Hal closed his eyes and fisted his hands tightly. 

"Any time, Harry," Eric said and clapped the spot in front of him.

Crouching, Hal proceeded to crawl closer and lay on his side, his back to the huntsman. However, the man just grabbed his hips and pulled him flush against his body, as he flung a heavy cotte on top of them.

Hal lay stiffly, all senses attuned to the unwanted intimacy of having the huntsman so up close, but it didn't take long before the only sounds around him were the crackling fire and the snoring puffs from father and son.

Hal had to make his move now. This was the only chance he was ever going to get. He couldn't afford the risk of them not keeping their word. Another half hour went by and the breathing pattern hadn't changed from either the huntsman or his father. Calmly and quietly, Hal tried to ease away from the cotte with kept breath. But the second the huntsman’s hand slipped off his hip, he wrapped it tightly around Hal's torso and pulled him back even closer, spooning him.

"Stay," was all Eric said as he buried his face in Hal's neck, "Relax. I'm not going to harm you in your sleep." Goose bumps erupted all over Hal's body at those words.

"Would be a treat to entertain your grand children that you sarded the king when you were young," Hal whispered.

"You're not king yet, Harry."

"Quite."

"...And I'm not interested in sleeping with you,” Eric dead panned.

Hal had no retort to that and yet he disentangled himself from the huntsman and turned around to face him. "You're infuriating," he murmured.

"So are you, prince," Eric said. 

"You the most," Hal whispered. In the soft glow from the dying fire, Hal enjoyed how visible the fine lines at the corners of the huntsman’s eyes stood out. Lines created from many smiles.

"Fine... I agree," Eric smirked and leaned closer.

"As you should," Hal said against Eric's lips.

"Harry," Eric moaned softly and kissed him.

Winding an arm around the huntsman’s torso, Hal pressed close to him and let the kiss wash over him as they gradually moved to let Hal lie on top of Eric.

Breaking the kiss, Hal sighed. “I wouldn’t have minded sharing with you, but I must confess that I need sleep more.”

“Roll back then, Harry. I need sleep, too,” Eric said, wound his fingers into Hal’s curls, and kissed him soundly on the lips.

Closing his eyes, Hal truly relaxed for the first time in so long that he whimpered.

}¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ } ¤ { ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ 

Come morning, the two men awoke to the sounds of cheerful birds greeting the day with their song. Pulling away from Harry’s warm body, Eric twisted slightly to check on his father, but the furrier was still snuggling in his bedroll.

“Father?” Eric asked, and Craig opened his eyes instantly.

“Eric?”

“All is well.”

Craig kept the mutual eye lock before he nodded and turned on his bedroll to catch some more sleep.

“Is he asleep?” Harry asked.

Quickly, Eric turned his attention to the prince. “He will fall back to sleep eventually. But you’re not.”

“Neither are you,” Harry pointed out. Then he sat up and worked his gangly limbs out of the bedroll.

Eric watched as he went a few yards away and relieved himself. Looking around, he got out himself and went to check on the horses. In his satchel, Eric dug out a few rolls of bread and a small tankard of ale and came back. Rekindling the fire, he heated some water for them to soften the hard lumps to break their fast.

Harry seemed better today, Eric mused. Their eyes met across the fire as the prince had chosen to sit next to Craig who’d gotten out of his bedroll as the camp noises roused him fully.

“Did you have a good night’s rest?” Craig asked them both. Harry nodded and sent Eric a glance.

“Yes, we did, father. Harry was a nice cushion,” Eric said dryly.

“I think it was the other way around,” Harry quipped, unexpectedly.

“Oh?” Craig grinned. “What a surprise.”

“How do you mean?” Harry asked.

“Oh, come now,” Craig tutted. “Must I really elucidate my point?”

“No, I’d prefer it if you did not, father,” Eric said.

Harry seemed to understand what Craig was saying between the lines; that he’d caught the attraction between them before they did themselves.

“I will not. You only answer to yourselves. And your king.”

“And God?” Eric added amused.

Harry snorted. “I can only speak for myself yes, and forgive my blasphemy, but I think God has more important matters to attend than scrutinise whom I take to my bed.”

“The church thinks otherwise,” Eric provoked him. 

“I _like_ having a man in my bed. Should I apologise to random people whom it does not harm?” Harry asked hotly.

“I do not care for details of your carnal desires, Harry,” Craig said and looked like he meant it.

Harry’s eyes rested on Eric’s face and the huntsman had to look away. He was oddly displeased knowing that the prince preferred male company in his bed and obviously had done so many a time prior to his captivity. Eric battled a possessive streak within himself for a while, though he knew he really had no business regarding the prince’s person once he was back in London. Personally, Eric did not take likely to sleeping around although he knew it was a common behaviour in court life. It certainly wasn’t for Eric. Throwing the rest of his meal into the flames, he got up and went to his satchel once more. His feelings drove him to this as he grabbed a leather chord, which he cut off a bit with his hunting knife and came back.

“Move,” he ordered his father who did not argue but went to sit on the log Eric previously sat on. “How are you feeling?” Eric asked Harry who jerked in surprise.

“I’m well. I believe I can walk...”

“You will not walk today. My horse can carry the both of us. There is no point in wasting more time.”

“So eager to get rid of me all of a sudden since you’re tired of punishing me?” Harry asked, but Eric didn’t answer. Instead, he reached up and ran his fingers through Harry’s hair, trying to make some order in his blond curly locks.

“What are you doing?” Harry said, and turned slightly, but Eric’s grip tightened in his hair and impatiently he had to wait until the huntsman was done. Picking out three slender locks, Eric began braiding them together gathering a few more locks when needed to create an intricate Celtic pattern. Finishing off his work, he twined the cord around the end of the braid to keep it from unravelling.

Then he got up and looked at the prince for a few more moments before he began the task of breaking down their camp.

Craig whistled in that low quiet way that indicated he’d realised something pivotal had happened. “Eric?” he asked.

“Not any of your concern, father,” Eric said.

“Not my concern? Are you mad, son? You’re overstepping our boundaries!”

Eric closed his eyes. Perhaps he’d been a tad too brave, but that’s how he felt. It didn’t matter what Harry thought about it. What mattered was that it mattered to Eric.

“What boundaries? What’s the meaning of this?” the prince asked.

Eric turned and looked at his father then at Harry, but he couldn’t answer.

Harry was fingering the braid as he came closer to him. “What is the meaning of this?” he repeated.

Eric straightened his posture looking the prince straight into the eye. It made Harry push him away and anger filled his stunning eyes. “Enough! You still think of me as a serf, don’t you?”

“Oh, here we go again? I never thought you were my serf. I was only trying to take you away from a dangerous place.”

“I will be your k-king one day, H-huntsman!” Harry said, adrenaline making his voice shaky.

“Yes, Harry. If we get to London safely. Then I’m sure you will.” 

“Quiet!” Craig hissed. “Both of you! You behave like children fighting over toys. And little mutual respect wouldn’t hurt either of you.”

Harry turned away, his discontentment written all over his body language and Eric felt like throttling the stupid man. Curbing his irritation, he found something better to do and continued breaking down the camp.

When Craig was done packing the horses, he came over and kicked dirt onto the fire. Stepping to the side next to his son, the two relieved themselves in silent unison.

Afterwards he asked him, "Ready?" 

"Yes, let us leave."

"You ride with me, Harry," Eric said and pointed at the prince.

"Obviously," Harry muttered, but Eric ignored it.

"Weren’t you known to be merry and drinking with the people at all hours at any day of the week?" Eric asked.

"That I was," Harry said. "But I'm not the same person any more. I believe I need to put that childish behaviour aside and make an effort to be worthy to fill my father's shoes when the time comes."

Eric looked at his father and Craig looked back. That they had not expected to hear from their fellow traveller.

Hoisting himself onto his horse, Eric reached down and helped Harry to mount. Taking a few moments to get comfortable in front of Eric, the huntsman was pleased to learn that the prince was an adept rider like he'd claimed he was, and Eric granted him the reigns. 

"What? So you can palm me in every way you desire?" Harry said, turning his head slightly.

"Thought you liked that?" Eric replied. 

Turning his head even further, Harry motioned Eric to bend his head. Eric smiled and kissed the thin lips.

The intimacy was short-lived as Craig cleared his throat.

"Ahem... Any time, gentlemen."

With Eric wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist, they settled for a steady trot, Craig behind them holding on to the mule.

}¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ } ¤ { ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ 

"So are you going to tell me what the braid means?" Hal asked the huntsman.

"No.” 

"Your father was pretty upset about it.”

“Yes.”

Hal sighed. “Fine. Have you no other family but your father? Wife? Children?"

"I had a wife," Eric said. 

"And?"

"She died."

"Oh. My condolences," Hal replied.

Eric just pulled him closer. 

Hal chuckled softly. "Oh, so _I'm_ your wife now?"

Eric laughed. "Finally, you caught on to the implication of this entire procedure.”

"Right,” Hal laughed, completely missing Eric’s facial expression behind him. “And me? Don't you want to know if I have a wife?”

“You don't, Harry. You’re not allowed to marry whomever you choose.”

Hal stopped smiling. “You seem to know an awful lot about me, Huntsman.”

Eric didn’t respond.

“I was once married,” Craig interrupted the tense intermezzo between the young men as he rode up beside them.

Hal smiled. “I’m sure she was beautiful.”

“You’re right.”

“Where are you from?” Hal asked.

“Canterbury. We were married by the Archbishop of Canterbury."

"The Archbishop?” Hal had to repeat. “Why would he marry a common furrier?”

Eric smiled benevolently and Craig said kindly, “He’s my godfather.”

“Congratulations. The old man never struck me as... a friend of the people.”

Craig laughed agreeing.

Hal addressed Eric then. "I will take a wife eventually, Huntsman."

"You must procure an heir," Eric agreed.

"Not only must. I want to take a wife. I don't really see you and I parading about in court entertaining politicians, kings, and friends alike. A wife will suit the Queen’s throne better than you, I’m afraid.”

“Wouldn’t dream of sitting on any throne nevertheless, Harry.” 

Hal nodded. 

"Politics."

"Politics. Or there would no point in me claiming the throne after my father in the first place."

Eric tightened his strong arms around Hal. “I like you, you insolent, and infuriatingly haughty prince.”

“I’m not haughty. I just miss my home and family.” 

"I’ll want to make sure that you return back to London safely."

"I could have taken care of myself just fine if I had had a weapon."

“But you hadn’t and thus sat rotting away in Lord Çalişkan’s dungeon for months.”

“I was not in a dungeon, Eric. I was scrubbing the floors on my knees every single sarding day.”

“And continued crouching on your knees for Çalişkan to take his sodomising pleasure by night!” Eric added.

Hal laughed out loud. “Well, yes. At least that’s what Çalişkan wants everyone to believe.”

“What do you mean?”

“He never took me. He was usually too drunk... I may have taken advantage of him without his knowing it though...” Hal taunted Eric just to get a rise out of him.

But the huntsman just snorted. “I actually believe you, Harry.”

Hal said nothing thereafter, and silence once more dominated their journey.

}¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ } ¤ { ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ 

A few days later found the trio entering the private entrance provided for the royal family at the Tower of London.

“Well, our journey ends here,” Hal said as he slipped off the horse. A servant came rushing to see what the commotion was all about.

Craig nodded with a tight smile. “Be well, Harry.”

Hal looked up at Eric, but the huntsman seemed a bit stubborn not returning his look.

Hal put his hand on his strong thigh. Their intimacy had waned out as London came closer, but he was going to miss feeling the man behind him.

“I thank you for generously returning me to my home and king,” Hal said and let his hand slide away. Seconds before his lost contact with Eric’s warm leg, the huntsman grabbed his hand, bent down, and plastered a kiss on his lips.

“I hope you can forgive us,” Eric murmured, as he ran a hand fondly over the small braid still adorning Hal’s hair. Then the two men rode out of the courtyard without another word.

Stunned Hal stood left behind before he turned to look at the disbelieving stable boy.

“My prince!” he gasped. “You’re back!”

“So it would seem,” Hal said quietly. 

“Shall I fetch the door ward?” the boy asked.

“No. Please don’t. Let me enter my home without any ruckus. I need to rest.” Then Hal turned and went for the small stone stairs leading to the Tower.

Once he was back in his old chambers, Hal broke down and wept for a while. The only other person present was his personal attendant who nervously witnessed the prince’s fatigued state of mind.

After half an hour, Hal got off the bed and asked for his father, the king’s, presence. Relieved, the young man left to fulfil this crucial task.

No longer than ten minutes later, the doors to Hal’s chamber flung open and his father stood there with a mix of relief and pain written on his face.

“And so you’re finally back with us!” King Henry said.

Hal nodded mutely and, crossing the room in long strides, he embraced his liege. Everything was good in this world once more.

}¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ } ¤ { ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ 

In the evening, Hal was seated next to his father at the main table in the grand dining hall. He’d told his father every detail he could think of about his stay at the castle, but for some reason it was particularly painful to refer to his experience with the people who had taken the risk of getting him out of his confinement.

“Visitors for you, my liege,” the king’s constable said lowly after nearing the high table where the royal family was seated.

“Ah,” King Henry said and looked up expectantly.

Hal cocked his head and curiously looked ahead. Then his eyes bulged at the sight of Eric the Huntsman and his father confidently striding the room as they neared the table. However, they weren’t dressed the way they had when they escorted Hal back to London. They were dressed in expensive studded leathers looking far more intimidating than when Hal knew them.

“What is the meaning of this?” Hal asked.

The two men knelt in front of the table, honouring their king.

Hal’s father, the king, stood up and addressed soundly the people in the room. “I wish to thank these two resourceful men: Sir Craig of Hemsworth and his son Eric the Huntsman. These magnificent men retrieved my son from his captivity when no one else could. I thank you with all of my heart. I will grant you a boon.”

“But you’ve already paid us generously, Your Majesty,” Craig pointed out. Then he glanced at Hal and winked wickedly.

Hal was nothing less than mortified. These two men had cleverly fooled everyone and simply lured Hal away from under Çalişkan’s nose.

“How come you didn’t explain yourselves right from the beginning?”

“We needed to look authentic to be able to enter the castle. To come as close to Your Royal Highness as possible,” Craig explained.

“You fooled me along with the rest of them,” Hal said.

“Your Highness,” Craig said apologetically and bowed, “It was necessary.”

Eric stood quietly and just watched Hal. Hal’s eyes found his and then he lifted his hand and fingered the brad. “Will you tell me now?”

“My wish is to serve Your Highness,” Eric said and bent his head in a short version of a bow.

“What does it mean, Huntsman?”

The king held out his hands and grabbed Hal’s head. Turning it slightly, he saw the little braid. “I think it’s... Have you pledged your services to my son for the rest of your life, Huntsman?”

“That’s one way of putting it, Your Majesty,” Eric said, his eyes not leaving Hal’s.

“How would _you_ put it?”

“That’s for Harry’s ears only, Your Majesty,” Eric said.

“Oh,” Hal gasped softly, understanding now evident in his eyes. “Excuse us, father,” Hal said urgently.

}¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ } ¤ { ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ 

Hastily, the prince hurried through the Tower pulling Eric along with him. He cared not what it looked like for the by passers. What mattered was having the Huntsman for himself as they talked about the _thing_ between them.

Once they were in Hal’s chambers, he grabbed Eric’s arms and demanded a straight answer. “And you will obey me. No more of this inquisitive nonsense.”

“I love you,” Eric said.

Hal sucked in his lips and pulled the man closer. Looking him in the eye, he said, “Is this braid a pledge? A token of your love for me? The insolent bratty serf?”

“We knew we would find you in Cimbreau, but we didn’t know what you looked like. We had clues and descriptions of your appearance. However I had a suspicion on the first night. Your demeanour was not that of a servant. You were... insolent. Defying Çalişkan with every word and action a common serf would never dare,” Eric smiled.

“How clever indeed,” Hal said and captured the Huntsman’s lips. “Show me how much this pledge means to you?”

“You want me to bed you?”

“Very much, Eric,” Hal replied.

“If it pleases you, my prince, then I suppose I can accommodate the time,” Eric said as he nibbled Hal’s thin smiling lips.

“Oh, it would please me. Don't you worry about that,” Hal chuckled. “It would have pleased me from the moment I set eyes on you.”

“Really?" Eric asked interestedly.

“Come now. No more talking.” Hal pulled Eric eagerly towards his large bed and laughing, the two men fell down on the comfortable duvets and covers.

“Off with all of this. It’s just distracting,” Eric said and efficiently pushed all the bed wear to the floor with Hal moving about to stay put.

“There should be a flask of oil...” Hal began to say, but Eric just shook his head. 

“No, I have something much better.” He withdrew a small container from his pocket and put on the mattress. Hal smiled.

“You were cock sure this would be the outcome of our endeavour?"

“No. But it didn’t hurt to be prepared should the outcome turn out to my favour.”

“My favour,” Hal argumented.

“Fine. It’s insignificant,” Eric said and began to divest Hal of his garments.

“I think I love you, Eric,” Hal said and reached out to caress his cheek.

Eric smiled as he put the prince’s clothes away. “I like that.”

Hal lowered his hands and began to unbutton the many studs on Eric’s leathers, but the man laughed.

“It’ll take all night,” he said and roughly did the job himself until he was equally naked and returned to the bed hovering over the smaller built prince.

Only then did the thought occur to Hal that he hadn’t seen Ned Poins since he returned. To be quite honest, he didn’t wish to see him. Not now. The only person he wanted to see was the huntsman.

Pushing his legs apart, Hal bent his knees. “Please, Eric,” he said.

Lowering his gaze, Eric took in the prince’s smallness except where it mattered, but also the strength that lay under the muscles. “You’ll soon be strong again, and I’ll fight you, train you.”

“Can’t wait to be more physical with you,” Hal said.

“Right now, I’ll take care of you,” Eric said and reached for the container.

Hal nodded and watched him handle the contents. Then he hissed, “It’s cold, Eric!”

“It’ll heat up fast and make you relax.”

Hal did feel its effect shortly after and looked questioningly at his lover. “What is that?”

“My own remedy.” Drawing his palm down Hal’s chest, around his hips and further down his arse, he made Hal sigh appreciatively.

Then Eric pushed at Hal’s knees and made him bend them further up his chest.

Letting his eyes sweep appreciatively over Hal’s body, he told him, “I like what I see. Everything about you makes me want you even harder.”

“You’re quite a sight yourself,” Hal assured him, but it was perhaps silly. Eric knew how extraordinary well built he was. Then he cried out as Eric poked gently around his entrance before he pushed a finger in half the way.

“How do you like it? Rough? Slow?”

“S-surprise me,” Hal stuttered. “Oh, but that feels... it’s so good.”

Eric pulled out and put some more slick on his fingers and inserted two. Hal was pliant and clenched deliciously around his digits.

“If you had a wife, how can you be so familiar with these proceedings?”

“It’s a skill I became acquainted with long before I married, Harry. Not all aspects of people’s lives are pure innocence,” Eric said, closing the thread to that conversation effectively.

A few minutes passed by with Hal moaning in pleasure as Eric worked him loose and accommodating for entry.

The huntsman slicked himself up and moved closer. “I want you to straddle me, Harry. Ride my lap.”

“Oh, I like that,” Hal said and got up to fit himself on top of his lover. “Let me guide you myself. You sure I’m ready?”

“Do you feel ready?” Eric asked.

“Yes. I think so.”

“Fine then,” Eric said and swallowed in anticipation.

Carefully, Hal aimed and, when he felt the tip of Eric’s cock nudging in place, he let himself get seated till their thighs met. “Ooooh,” Hal moaned. 

“Good moan or bad moan?” Eric asked biting his lip.

“Very good moan.” Hal gyrated experimentally, and Eric grabbed his tiny hips, guiding him when Hal began to move up and down on his hard shaft.

“Move back a bit,” Eric instructed him.

“Like this?” Hal asked and supported himself using his hands. Eric’s hand grabbed the back of his neck and they cooperated in creating a rhythm.

Hal choked out a gasp. “Uuh... oh, my god.”

Eric just smirked. “Don't tell me this is the first time you feel this?”

“No... It’s been so sporadic and quick - I’m rarely not the top,” Hal tried to explain, but words failed him when the blinding sensation ignited every erogenous zone in his body at once. Hal’s moans and chokes of pleasure tumbled out of his mouth as his body clenched desperately around Eric’s cock.

The huntsman pulled the prince up before he manoeuvred them to lie down. Fast and eagerly, he thrust into the younger man below him, his stomach rubbing the prince’s erection with every thrust. Precome making a mess between their bellies.

Hal let his hands slip appreciatively down Eric’s long body until he could grab both his buttocks and feel the muscles strive to push his groin against Hal’s. 

"Here it comes," Hal sighed and let go of his lover to let himself slip into the maelstrom of his orgasm. Slowly, he opened his eyes after a while and stretched luxuriously. "Always do this to me,” Hal said and chuckled a little.

"Is that a command?" Eric said, having waited patiently for the prince to come out of his daze.

"Yes. It is a command. Now do it to me again."

Eric laughed and took up the vigorous lovemaking. Closing in on his own release, he closed his eyes and moaned Hal's name.

Hal cried out and lifted his neck gradually. He'd forgotten how sensitive he was afterwards and looked at Eric with glassy eyes. "Hurry. It's... god!" His back arched and his fingers gripped the sheets tightly.

Eric breathed labouredly as he reached his peak. "Oh, so good, Harry."

Hal shuddered and laughed. "Amazing. Now kindly roll of me. I'm not a maid."

Eric didn't care and stayed put. "We're not done."

"Well, that's my second command. After we're done. We're done."

Eric kissed him and Hal wrapped a leg around one of his and they twined their limbs.

"A shame we can’t breed an heir on you," Eric said amused.

Hal snorted. "With these hips? I doubt I'd survive the labour."

Eric looked pained by his words and Hal looked scrutinising at him. “Your wife... she died in labour?”

Eric nodded courtly.

“So... you had a baby boy who didn’t survive?”

Eric’s eyes became bright and Hal leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“I’m so sorry.”

“We had three sons in the time we were married, and they all died in their infant years... including my wife with the last one.” Eric inhaled shakily and didn’t look at Hal. 

“I wasn’t my mother’s first born,” Hal said. “My brother Edward died an infant. Five years later I was born. I doubt my father neared her bed in fear of losing her. Must have been a rough labour.” He shuddered, because, eventually, his mother, Queen Mary, also died in childbirth when his sister Philippa was born. Hal was only seven years old at the time.

“Humans will not stop have children because of the risks of childbirth,” Eric said. “After all, more babies do survive than die.”

Hal nodded. “’Tis true.”

Eric sat up and motioned to get out of bed. “All the _old wives' tales_ are making me grumpy.”

Hal smiled. “Then go and do some manly labour until you've exhausted yourselv.”

Eric turned and knelt on the bed to capture Hal’s lips. Hal got on his knees immediately and embraced him hard. Eric let his hands run over his naked thighs and buttocks which earned a fond squeeze by his large hands.

“All mine.”

“All yours,” Hal concurred.

“I mean it.”

“As do I.”

Eric kissed him one last time and, with a satisfied smirk, he left the bedroom.

Sitting down on the bed on his bent legs, Hal looked at the door. Then his eyes slid over the walls and he closed his eyes just taking in the faint sounds of the Tower, the smells, and he truly cherished being home. Everything was different now than from whom he’d been before he was taken hostage.

Life was suddenly not boring any more where he had to come up with outrageous entertainment to fill the days, before he was expected to take over the throne. Lord, he would not have been ready anyway. A strong sense of responsibility had taken over the prince, and he knew the last few months of hardship were the sole reason for that. When the time came, he would be ready, but hopefully that day was not in near future. Hal was not keen on losing his father yet.

Another war against the Cimbreaus was not immediate urgent and would just cause pain on innocent people staying in the path who so recently had suffered the previous war. However, some day – Hal would do something about it and Eric would be by his side. Eric would be there for him for the rest of his life. Hal took a big breath to swallow the emotions that were suddenly filling his chest to the point of bursting. 

“That’s how being in love feels like,” he said aloud, and then busied himself making the bed. 

Lying under the covers, he whispered annoyed, “That was barely a task,” but his heart was racing and he felt tired. “Let’s just say you wore me out,” he mused and turned his head to rub his face in the sheet where he thought he could smell Eric.

“Tomorrow, I suppose I should braid Eric’s hair... and then we shall populate the Tower with many babies.” With that cunning plan thought out in rich details, Hal fell asleep – revived with hunger for the future.

}¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ } ¤ { ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ 

-End of tale 17th of May 2014 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed the story.
> 
> ヅ


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